Foreplay (The Ivy Chronicles #1)(22)

Mr. Campbell shot his wife a pleading look and motioned to the sink—to Reece really. “We’re almost done.”

She looked on the verge of laughter. “Really? We?” She sent me a knowing look. “We had to call in reinforcements. Michael’s an accountant. Not quite the handy man.”

“Nice.” Mr. Campbell’s face flushed. “We all heard that, honey.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you should take some of those weekend classes at Home Depot and stop calling up Reece every time something breaks.”

Mr. Campbell pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose even though they didn’t appear to have slipped.

“Michael. We’re going to be late,” she reminded him sharply.

He motioned to Reece again with a swift wave of his hand. “Ten more minutes.”

Reece’s deep, familiar voice rumbled up from under the sink. “I’m almost done here. You can go on, Mr. Campbell.”

“Thank you, Reece.” Mrs. Campbell’s voice was all relief. When her husband looked prepared to object, she cut him off. “Michael, get your coat.”

Mr. Campbell’s shoulders slumped but he nodded. He kissed both his girls and reminded them to behave. “Thanks, Reece,” he called, a certain glumness to his voice as he exited the kitchen.

Mrs. Campbell turned to me. “The girls have had their baths already. We shouldn’t be too late tonight. Just text or call if you need anything.”

I nodded, knowing the drill by now. “We’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Pepper.”

At the pronouncement of my name, my gaze flew to the sink—to the guy under it—registering the way he froze. I swallowed. How many girls could be named Pepper, after all? He knew I had watched the Campbells’ kids before. It only made sense that it would be me here. Pepper from the bar. The girl he kissed. The girl who less than smoothly gave him her number. Not that he had called or texted me. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach and I quickly decided this was going to be uncomfortable.

Awareness crackled in the air. He knew I was here. He knew I knew he was here. And the last time I’d seen him he had kissed me. He slid partway out from beneath the sink and propped himself on one elbow. His gaze locked on mine. My chest tightened as we stared at each other. His well-worn T-shirt hugged his chest, leaving little to the imagination. Under that shirt his body was firm, muscled. Stroke-worthy.

“Hey.”

I snapped my gaze back to his face and found my voice. “Hi,” I returned, the sound small and breathy.

Madison started bouncing her weight against me. I staggered, squaring my feet on the floor to keep my balance. “We hungy, Pepper!”

“Okay.” Grateful for the distraction, I untangled myself from the girls and ushered them out of the kitchen, leading them into the hall bathroom to wash up for dinner.

When we returned several minutes later, Reece had picked up the tools from the kitchen floor and was washing up at the sink.

He glanced at me. “You can use this sink now.”

I nodded as I helped Madison up into her booster seat, my thoughts churning feverishly, trying to come up with something to say that didn’t reflect the hot mess I was inside.

“Are you gonna eat with us, Reece?” Sheridan asked.

My gaze shot to his as I clicked Madison’s buckle into place.

“We eatin’ noodles,” Madison declared, slapping her chubby little hands on the top of the table as I dragged her chair closer.

“With meatballs,” Sheridan added. “Momma makes the best meatballs.”

“The best, huh?” Reece looked at her, considering her thoughtfully, like what she was saying really mattered. Not like other adults, who just looked through kids without really seeing them. Or talked down to them like they were some sort of sub-level human. “What are we talking about here?” He dried his hands with a dish towel and leaned a hip against the counter. “How big are these meatballs?”

Sheridan bit her lip, thinking, and then formed a circle with her hand about the size of a softball. “’Bout like that.”

I grinned at the slight exaggeration.

“Oh, man. Really? That’s the perfect size.”

Sheridan nodded, clearly happy to have Reece agree with her judgment.

His gaze slid to me.

“Would you like to stay?” Really. What else was I supposed to say at that point?

“Sure.”

The girls cheered, and I quickly moved toward the stove and the waiting bowls beside the pots of noodles and sauce. I grabbed a fourth bowl from inside the cabinet.

Turning, I jumped with a small yelp to find Reece directly behind me. The girls giggled uproariously, Madison snorting through her nose.

He held up his hands, palms face out. “Sorry. Just seeing if I could help.”

I nodded, hating the way my face burned. “Yeah. Thanks. Um. Could you pour drinks? There’s milk in the fridge.”

He opened a cabinet—the right one; clearly he had spent some time here—and selected four cups. I smiled, noticing that he picked two princess cups with sliding lids for the girls.

He poured milk as I dished noodles into each bowl. From the corner of my eye, I watched as he set the glasses on the table. Without being told, he opened the oven and removed the heavenly smelling garlic bread from inside.